Wesley Corpus

Thus, thus may I happily grieve, And hear the intent of his rod, The marks of adoption receive, The strokes of a merciful God, With nearer access to his throne My burthen of folly confess, The cause of my miseries own, And cry for an answer of peace. O Father of mercies, on me, On me in affliction bestow, A power of applying to thee, A sanctified use of my woe: Page 226 I would, in a spirit of prayer, To all thy appointments submit, The pledge of my happiness bear, And joyfully die at thy feet. Then, Father, and never till then, I all the felicity prove Of living a moment in pain, Of dying in Jesus's love, A sufferer here with my Lord, With Jesus above I sit down, Receive an eternal reward, And glory obtain in a crown. "He maketh sore, and bindeth up: he woundeth, and his hands make whole." Job v. 18. Smitten by thee my heart is sore; Jesus, shew thy sovereign power, And bind it up again: Thy wrath hath made the painful wound, But in thy bleeding hands is found The balm that heals my pain. This anguish of a wounded soul, ('Till thy love hath made me whole) O how shall I endure? Now, Lord, with pard'ning grace begin, And bring thy heavenly nature in To work a perfect cure. "He shall deliver thee in six troubles: yea in seven there shall no evil touch thee." Job v. 19. Why should I doubt his love at last, With anxious thoughts perplext? Who sav'd me in the troubles past, Will save me in the next; Will save, 'till at my latest hour, With more than conquest blest, I soar beyond temptation's power, To my Redeemer's breast. Page 227 "I would not live alway." Job vii. 16. No; I would not always live, Always sin, repent, and grieve, Always in my dungeon groan, Always serve a God unknown: Or if thou appear'st to me, Darkly thro' a glass I see, Know in part, and deeper mourn, 'Till I to thy arms return.